Marry Me, Kate. Judy Christenberry

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      Will kept his hand on Kate’s waist, enjoying the feel of her. She might not be dressed as elegantly as the elite of Kansas City, but she shouted sex appeal.

      And he was a healthy man.

      The count, one of his mother’s hangers-on, appeared to be healthy, too. Too much so. It irritated Will that the man had kissed Kate’s hand, though it hadn’t seemed to bother her.

      As they continued down the receiving line, he discovered every man introduced to Kate was affected by her curvaceous figure.

      He wanted to punch them all out.

      As soon as they’d finished the introductions, he took her arm and pulled her in the direction of the serving tables. “Let’s get a drink.”

      A waiter stepped in front of them with a tray. “Champagne, sir?”

      Will grabbed two glasses and handed one to Kate.

      She calmly set it back down on the tray. With a smile to the waiter, she said, “I’d prefer mineral water. Is it available?”

      The waiter acted as if he’d been given a commission of greatness. “I’ll bring it to you personally, miss,” he assured her, a hungry grin on his lips.

      She thanked him and he hurried away, an almost full tray in his grasp, ignoring the people who were waiting to be served.

      “You’re dangerous,” Will murmured.

      “I beg your pardon?”

      “Try not to ask for any more favors. I’m afraid half the men in here will fall on their faces rushing to serve you.” He noted the flash of anger in her eyes with satisfaction. The more off balance she felt, the more outrageous she’d behave.

      And the more upset his mother would become.

      “Will! Where have you been lately, buddy?” a male voice called out.

      Will turned to see John Larabee, Jr., an old school chum, approaching. He shouldn’t have been surprised. Jack had always chased the most beautiful women, and Kate was easily in that category.

      “Hello, lovely lady,” Jack added as he reached Will and Kate. He took Kate’s hand in his and held it.

      “Good evening,” Kate said coolly and tugged on her hand.

      “Let her go, Jack.”

      Both his companions stared at him, Kate with indignation in her gaze, and Jack with a considering look. However, Jack didn’t bother to let go of Kate’s hand.

      Kate tugged on her hand again. When the man didn’t immediately release it, she took Will’s champagne out of his hand and calmly poured what was left down the front of Jack’s tuxedo.

      “Oh, I’m so sorry. How careless of me,” she said, a sweet smile of concern on her lush lips.

      Jack stared at his tuxedo in horror, but he also released Kate’s hand. “You—you—that—” he sputtered, wiping his shirtfront and glaring at her at the same time.

      Several people around them, apparently having watched the brief scenario, gave gasps of disapproval and moved to console Jack, a favorite with the elite of Kansas City.

      “That was very rude, young lady,” a blue-haired dowager snapped as her husband offered a handkerchief to Jack.

      “Oh, I quite agree,” Kate said calmly, “but you know how some men are. They just can’t behave themselves.” She smiled and then excused herself and moved toward the service table.

      Will closed his gaping mouth, swallowed a chuckle and followed in Kate’s wake. This evening was going to be more fun than he’d ever had before at one of his mother’s events.

      “A bit extreme, but effective,” he whispered in Kate’s ear as she looked over the hors d’oeuvres.

      “Thank you,” she replied calmly, never lifting her gaze from the table.

      Just as he decided she’d earned her interview, his mother arrived, outrage on her face.

      “William! Is it true? Did this—this woman pour champagne on Jack?”

      Kate, holding a plate with various hors d’oeuvres on it, turned to look at his mother. “Is Jack a friend of yours, Mrs. Hardison? I hope he’s not upset by my little accident. If he’s concerned about the champagne staining—”

      “Young woman! I heard it was no accident!” She turned so that Kate was facing her back and looked at Will. “I cannot believe you would bring such a social misfit to our gala!”

      Will had hoped the young woman would disturb his mother, but he hadn’t expected such a scene. Even so, it wasn’t fair for Kate to be treated so harshly. Without even thinking, he leapfrogged several unexplained steps in his plan and circled Kate with his arm.

      “Why wouldn’t I bring her, Mother? Kate and I are to be married.”

      Several glasses crashed even as Miriam Hardison slumped to the floor in a dead faint.

      

      The silence in the car was deafening as William Hardison drove Kate home. After his mother fainted, pandemonium had reigned. Kate had taken the opportunity to sample some of the hors d’oeuvres, knowing her departure was imminent.

      Even as Mrs. Hardison regained consciousness, several dowagers remonstrated with the root of all the problems, William. Kate listened to their impassioned words as she watched her escort’s expression. As his jaw squared, she stepped forward.

      “William, dear, I’m ready to leave. Shall I call a taxi?” As if she could afford such an extravagance. “I’ll understand if you want to stay with your mother.”

      At least he wasn’t dumb, she decided with relief. His glare told her he got her message loud and clear. She was leaving, with or without him.

      “No, I’ll take you home.” He turned to the slumped-over woman, her head resting on the count’s shoulder, bravely sipping champagne. “Mother, I’m taking Kate home now. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

      Without waiting for a response, he’d taken Kate’s arm and strode from the museum.

      She’d wondered if he’d explain, though she couldn’t think of any explanation that would justify his behavior. She hated being used, especially to upset someone. She might not enjoy the company of society ladies, but she didn’t wish them any harm.

      When he drove in silence, offering nothing to account for his behavior, she silently said goodbye to her dream. After all, there hadn’t been much hope anyway. They wouldn’t sell the diner, but she’d have to take another job and save until she could carry out her goal.

      Without the rude man beside her.

      He pulled up to the diner and parked the car, then opened his door.

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